


Young Gods/The Eternals

by vesuviannights



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: AFAB Reader (The Arcana), Bondage, Bukkake, Come Eating, Dominant Valerius, F/M, Female Reader, M/M, Multi, Oral, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Public Sex, Shibari, Submissive Lucio, double hand job
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-08-19 13:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20210617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesuviannights/pseuds/vesuviannights
Summary: After watching you for weeks and learning every one of your kinks and turn ons, Valerius lures you to his chambers to play with he and Lucio. In the days and weeks that follow, you encounter them many times in a variety of debauched situations.(This basically just 10k+ words of you being fucked by/fucking around with Lucio and Valerius. No plot. Enjoy)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written over several weeks from a mixture of anon requests on my Tumblr (@vesuviannights).

As you step into the doorway and push on the door, already left slightly ajar, you inhale sharply. 

“_Fuck—_” Valerius tilts his head back as he groans, his braid falling from his shoulder, along with several pieces that have already started coming loose. “I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last, baby.”

His words send a shiver through Lucio. He is bent over the side of the bed facing you, lips parted, jaw shaking. His face is flushed and he is begging, crying, _groaning _as Valerius thrusts furiously into him, fucking his ass with a brutal and unforgiving pace.

In between his groans and cries, you can hear quiet little demands, these bratty little commands to go _faster_, fuck him _harder_, give him _more_. His words sound so much like the Count of Vesuvia, but don’t look as though they should match the whining, pathetic mess currently being fucked into oblivion by his Consul. 

Lucio is the first to spot you, his latest babble of demands and groans cut short as his eyes flicker to you in the doorway. His expression is a little clouded but curious, and he has already spotted the hand you have cupped around your breast, the way your nipple is showing through the sheer fabric of your dress as you thumb and caress it with your bottom lip between your teeth. 

But despite it being Lucio who finds you first, it is Valerius’ gaze that you seek out, the taste of his tongue still lingering from when it swept into your mouth, from when you whimpered and keened against his barely-there brush of his hand along your breast, a mere two days ago.

“There she is.”

You still as Valerius’ eyes swing to yours, as he holds you there with his gaze and without reprieve. He pulls out of Lucio and steps away, ignoring Lucio’s protests as he walks around to you. There is no doubting that the Count seems intrigued with you too, crawling forward on the bed to watch as Valerius stops in front of you.

“If I’d known you were such a voyeuristic little harpy,” Valerius starts. You blush at his words and attempt to stutter out a refusal, but he keeps going as though you haven’t spoken, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. “Perhaps I wouldn’t have kissed you to lure you in. Perhaps I would have simply brought you here.”

“Are we playing tonight, Val?” Lucio asks, an amused yet hopeful lilt to his voice.

You peek around Valerius’ broad, bare shoulders to spot Lucio reclining on the bed. His cock is in his hand, stiff and throbbing as he lazily tugs at it. His eyes travel down the little of your body that has been exposed in you peering around Valerius, and the hunger you see there as he looks back to your eyes tells you he likes what he sees.

“Perhaps.” Valerius finally answers. “But only if the harpy wants to.”

_If the harpy wants to?_ It takes you a moment to realise he’s speaking about you, that his words aren’t even really lilted or phrased as a question. His eyes are raking over you, taking in your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, the way your eyes can barely stand to tear away from Lucio’s reclining form, and when they do they’re immediately drawn to Valerius’ own, to where his cock is bobbing—needy, demanding—in the bare-minimum space between you. 

“What—” You swallow, and when your voice returns it’s a little steadier. “What would we be doing?” 

“Anything you feel comfortable with,” Valerius says. “But if I might make the suggestion, I have been watching you, learning about your habits and desires. I have exactly what you need, little one.” 

You exhale as he steps aside, and your eyes are drawn to it immediately—an ornately carved oak chair inlaid with gold, placed at the foot of the bed. Hooked around the back, the arms, the legs, are a series of cherry-red ropes with small knots and loops already placed at intervals.

They look as though they would be the perfect size for your limbs to slip into, and once they had been tightened just a fraction you would be unable to move anywhere. There are extra lengths of rope waiting across the seat of the chair, waiting to be fastened around your chest and hips.

You swallow back a cry at the sight of them, barely aware that Valerius has already ushered you inside enough to close the door. He comes to stand behind you, the heat of his cock pressing into your lower back, seeping through your clothes. He leans in and around you, tracing a line up your neck from base to jaw with the tip of his nose.

“Let me see you, honeybee,” he murmurs, his knuckles dragging lazily up your arm. “Take off all those useless layers so we can see the glorious being beneath.”

Hands shaking, you begin, shrugging off and removing each item until you are left in your undergarments. Valerius’ finger hooks underneath the strap of your bra, tracing it to the back before letting it snap in place. In a movement you barely register, his fingertips flick the clasp and it pools in the creases of your elbows before he nudges it completely off and to the ground. 

“Lucio,” Valerius says his name into your bare shoulder, stern, a little snappish. “Did I tell you to stop?”

Your eyes flicker up to Lucio, who is already grinning in delight as he takes hold of himself once more, stroking and pulling with long, even movements. You decide that he either likes the idea of being bossed around, or is enjoying the sight of you before him, unsure of exactly what will happen next, body trembling from anticipation and desire.

Perhaps it is both.

As Lucio continues to stroke and play with himself, Valerius leads you over to the chair and gestures for you to sit down. You do, and he immediately sets to work, slipping each limb into one or more of the loops, tightening them a fraction at each of the critical points.

Of course, they fit perfectly.

He then takes the extra lengths and begins to wrap and twist them in an intricate, complicated pattern along your abdomen and chest. He slips a finger under each rope as he completes the knot to check the snugness, then looks up to you in question. You nod your approval, the movement a little shaking and jarring.

When he is done, you are bound to the chair almost completely. You can’t pull away from the back, and your legs and ankles are flush with the wood. The ropes around your calves and thighs cause your flesh to bulge a little between their lines, but it’s merely uncomfortable, not too restricting.

Your shoulders and chest have been bound back, but your arms from your elbows down are a little more free. You have enough room to curl them around the arms of the chair and reach down to touch yourself, but not enough to fuck yourself with your fingers to get any real satisfaction, you notice. 

You must let out a noise of realisation when this thought hits you, because Valerius laughs softly and straightens, mussing the hair on your head much like one would a child, so that it falls in your face and obscures your vision. You blow at it, jaw tight, and enough of it moves so that you can see him beckoning Lucio over to stand before you.

“Our safe word is ‘Syrah’.” He waits until you nod your understanding, then turns his attentions back to the impatient Count before him. “Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?”

Lucio steps in between you leans forward, placing his hands on either arm of your chair, now close enough for his hot, uneven breaths to fall on your chest and lips. His eyes are raking all over you, taking note of every knot and bulge and the slight tinge of pink from the friction as you shift; you see his cock twitch in response to the sight.

He presses his hips back toward Valerius, and lets out the most delicious, agonised groan as Valerius fills him and begins to fuck him once more, matching the fast, brutal pace from before.

Lucio leans forward, his lips lingering by yours as he waits for your consent; you nod shakily, and he crushes his lips to yours, tongue sweeping out along your bottom lip before claiming the taste of your mouth. 

“Suck on his tongue, little one,” Valerius tells you. “He loves it so." 

You do as told, lips taking hold of his tongue and suckling. His react is immediate and he becomes a whimpering mess whose entire body shudders and shakes at the motion. He pulls back, stuttering before he manages to get his words out.

“_Ah—Val_, p-please—please let me come—” 

“Stop being so selfish. What about our guest?” Your eyes move slowly up to Valerius to find his stare—sharp, lethal, predatory—already on you. “Treat her nicely, and if you’re a good boy then I will let you come.”

You release a shuddering breath, and tilt your head as Lucio’s lips find your neck and begin to suckle. You whimper and keen, hips pressing up in your binds but barely making it an inch from your seat. Your hands only make it so far in their bindings; you can find your clit, but your range of motion is limited, you can’t work fast enough and you can’t reach down further to begin to fuck yourself with your fingers.

“Lucio!” Valerius snaps. He accentuates his words with a sharp _crack _of his hand against Lucio’s ass. Lucio keens into your neck, a noise that makes his entire body tremble. “Help her.”

Lucio’s hand reaches down to find you, while his gloved arm grips tighter around the arm of your chair, splintering it a little with his force. He knocks aside your shaking, pathetic attempts to touch yourself and slips a long, deft finger into your aching pussy.

You cry out, eyes stinging from the relief and the frustration that still rage inside of you. Lucio inserts another finger as his thumb drags lazily over your clit.

“Is he doing well, little one?” Valerius asks. “Is he being a good boy, touching your greedy little pussy exactly the way you like?”

You cry out as Lucio crooks both fingers inside of you, the sound cut short by a sob as you nod.

His fingers are practised; they move slowly, with purpose and certainty. He gently spreads your pussy with scissoring motions, crooks them and beckons you on with his movements and his whines and grunts as Valerius fucks his asshole. 

“Lucio,” Valerius purrs. He smooths a hand up Lucio’s back and takes a fistful of his hair, yanking him away from your neck. Lucio’s eyes roll back, his jaw shaking from his delirious pleasure. “You’ve been such a good boy, letting me fuck you for hours while we waited on our little one. You can come now, if you would like.” 

Lucio’s fingers immediately slip out of you, and he ignores your cries of protest as he takes himself in his hand, stroking and pulling with jerking, uneven moments. The motion of Valerius thrusting into him, the painful pull of his hair, and Lucio’s own hips thrusting into his hand, send him over the edge in moments.

He whimpers and whines and groans as his seed spurts out, covering his hand, your thighs, your stomach, your pussy. You shudder at the sight of it, white-hot strings of it lashing your heated skin, the walls of your pussy fluttering and clenching pathetically, as though the action would bring Lucio’s fingers back and allow you to follow him over the edge.

As Lucio sags, kept up only by Valerius’ hold on his hair, the arm wrapped around his waist, holding him down cruelly on Valerius’ cock, the Consul murmurs his approval and praise. Lucio’s lips quirk into a pleased grin, the movement tired and barely-there, one of his dimples visible in the dim light of the room. Valerius steps back to pull out of him, and your eyes drop to see Lucio’s thighs trembling, Valerius’ seed trailing down the inside of each. 

You exhale, a little louder than you mean to, and much more frustrated than you realised you felt. Valerius’ eyes slip to you, eyebrow quirked as he says to Lucio, “I think our little one is feeling left out and neglected.”

Lucio grins, the jewel on his canine glinting in the light. “We could leave her like this.”

Valerius chuckles. “Oh, that would be _cruel_, wouldn’t it?”

You instantly shake your head, feeling another sob bubbling in your chest, your eyes stinging as you hold back frustrated tears. 

“No!” You lash out through clenched teeth. “I need to come, _I need to come!_”

Lucio doesn’t care for the demand. Valerius, though, looks like he’s going to take pity on you, in all your frustration and the pathetic babbling and begging that follows when you begin to panic that the demands aren’t working.

“You can clean her up with your tongue,” he tells Lucio, kissing his jaw as he watches you. He slips a finger past Lucio’s parted lips, and moans softly as the Count begins to suck. Then, eyes still locked on yours, “Eat her out until she screams and then keep going, even when she begs for you to stop.”

And as the wicked curve returns to his lips, you understand that it wasn’t pity he had been bestowing upon you before—it was the Devil’s touch.

Valerius releases Lucio, adding with a wicked and cruel smirk, “Maybe she’ll even pass out like Noddy did when we fucked _her_.”

White-hot rage. A furious jealousy you barely get to recognise or process slams into you as Lucio drops to his knees and shoves his fingers into you, taking him greedily into your sopping pussy. And then you are crying out against him, your pussy milking his fingers as your body writhes against its binds to try and get more.

His tongue is greedy, lapping up his own seed, spreading it around your pussy to mix with your arousal. The ropes cut into your skin, little friction burns bursting beneath each of the knots that only spur you on and make you cry out louder.

Your orgasm hits you with a force that sends the world black for a few moments, your body deathly still and then seizing all at once. You sob and grind against his fingers and tongue, beg for more, beg for him to _stop_, some part of you barely recognising that most of your release has already passed, and this was now the torture Valerius had demanded be inflicted upon you. 

“No!” You whine, you try to squirm away, chest tight. “Stop—_stop_, please—it’s too—too much, I _can’t_—”

You beg for him to stop even though it falls on deaf ears. You sob for Valerius to end it even though you know he never will, not unless you say that one little word that will set you free. 

And then you are coming again, this time your entire body arching against its binds before sagging back into the chair as your pussy contracts and spasms around Lucio’s fingers. And even then he is still going, still pumping and spreading and crooking his fingers, using his tongue to tease and lavish your clit, but you have gone quiet, tears streaking down your cheeks, quiet little sobs bubbling in your chest.

The third time you come, you barely let out a whimper, your eyelids heavy, face wet with your tears and snot that has been running in your cries.

You think he stops then. 

You don’t feel his tongue, you don’t feel his deft fingers.

Your pussy is numb, twitching, your thighs ache along with every other joint from the pressure of your movements.

One of them—Valerius, you think—murmurs in your ear. You open your eyes to see him before you, no sign of Lucio. He pushes the hair off your face, speaking softly to you.

“That was so wonderful. You were so glorious to watch, little one, and I am so proud of you.”

You feel cold metal slide beneath the ropes of your left arm before the pressure there releases, the rope cut clean. The feeling follows on each of your legs, your other arm, the ropes binding your stomach and chest and hips, until you are completely free.

Valerius brings you to your feet, legs shaking beneath you like a newborn foal. A warm body—Lucio’s—presses into you from behind, his arms enveloping your waist and holding you firm.

“Thank you so much, little one,” he murmurs to you. His lips press a soft kiss to the nape of your neck. “You tasted so divine, and you did so well. You were everything I wanted.”

You exhale, the world finally seeming to come back to you, and you let Lucio lead you over to the bed and lay you down, pulling you in tight to his body. His arms and legs wrap around you, cocooning you with his heat and scent. He begins to stroke your back, your hair.

The bed shifts behind him, and Valerius presses into Lucio’s other side with a kiss to the Count’s temple. Lucio purrs, turning his head to kiss Valerius properly, before settling back down and closing his eyes.

And as you watch the action, you realise how heavy your own eyelids are, how very much you could sleep for days on end. You look up to Valerius, head propped up on his hand as he watches the two of you, as though he might do it forever, an eternity of watching you stretched out before him and beneath him. His to love and consume.

“You truly did so well, little one,” he murmurs to you. “You were exquisite. And I would love for you to return, if you would have the two of us again.” 

You nod, just the once as your lashes flutter against your cheeks, and then the world dissolves into the blissful black of sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week after you were lured to Valerius' chambers, you receive an invite to an exclusive gathering at the palace, where you watch Lucio and Valerius shamelessly flirt with the guests and each other while you seethe - a little drunk, a lot jealous - in the corner. As it turns out, the Count and his consul are more than happy to prove their affections for you while fucking you senseless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of Young Gods/The Eternals. It links with part one but you can still read it separately without the context.

You haven’t, despite every harsh word you’ve had with yourself, been able to stop watching Lucio and Valerius for the 3 hours you have been sitting here. You’ve been watching them from your table in the corner, drink in hand (multiple, actually, you’re maybe just a little tipsy). And when you get tipsy, you tend to become a bit green. 

It’s a gathering at the palace, for…city planning, or consuls, or foot fetishists, or something. You don’t care. The purpose of it was never the point. You had received the invite, you had showed up—and had almost immediately realised what a colossal mistake it had been. 

Because once you were at a party in the Count of Vesuvia’s palace, surrounded buy all the most important people and courtiers who whispered and gossiped and delighted in the suffering of others, it was impossible to leave without it being noticed.

And so here you are, forced to watch, forced to suffer, though after so many hours and so many drinks you are not sure which of your two suffering options you would prefer.

Lucio has been moving around the hall the entire night, mingling with the crowd, speaking to various guests – people from Nevivon, cities they wish to trade with, throwing his goddamn charming smirk at anything that bats its fucking eyelashes at him. 

Placing his hands on shoulders. 

Laughing at every joke. 

Twirling locks of hair around his fingertips.

It’s pathetic. 

Valerius hasn’t been much better, though. He’s been _allowing_ it, following Lucio around with his wine glass in hand, a half-sneer on his face as he introduces the Count to each new guest that said Count then proceeds to practically throw himself at and propose marriage to.

You had caught Valerius’ eye just once during the hours you had been watching him; his half-sneer had become a full sneer, then. He’d barely kept contact with you for a second before looking off, stepping to the side so you could receive a full look of Lucio sidling up—laughing, smirking, batting his _fucking _eyelashes—all to someone whose resemblance to you was too striking, and too impossible to ignore.

And then you were burning, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and fury. Fury that they had invited you back. That you had accepted. That they were ignoring you so easily. That you hadn’t noticed it before, the way the Count and his consul linger a little too close, the adoring looks they throw each other when the other isn’t looking, the ease at which they lean in and murmur in the other’s ear, a secret only for the two of them. 

Of course they were _fucking_.

Of course something was going on between them, but how had no one in this gods-forsaken city noticed it? And why had it been _you_ that had been pulled into it, you that had accepted the invitation to the consuls quarters, and then been left with all the messy pieces?

You drain the remainder of your drink and shove yourself to your feet, only partially managing not to sway on them. You grasp your glass and throw one more furious look at the two of them before beginning through the crowd toward the bar.

The line is long, you can see it as you approach, and you are figuring out how to avoid that and still get your drink when a large hand grabs your elbow and _pulls_.

You yelp, the noise barely heard of the cacophony of the party; darkness envelopes you, then dim candlelight, and you realise you have been pulled into one of the anti-chambers sometimes opened to create additional room for party guests.

“How _dare_ y-”

You cut your own furious, slightly slurred words off as you lock gazes with Lucio. He quirks an eyebrow at you as he gazes you over, eyeing every inch of skin almost casually as one might glance at a passing crowd. Light is dancing in his eyes as he tilts his head down at you, finally looking to your face. He chuckles, then turns his head slightly to call over his shoulder.

“Val, I think we might have found one who is even more jealous and possessive than _you_.”

You quickly rearrange your features, or at least try to appear impassive. You glance off, and when Lucio takes you by the chin—squeezing just a little too tight—and turns you back to look at him, it’s everything you have in you not to be spewing venom through your eyes and teeth.

“Oh, pet,” he sighs. His smile is the kind of soft you’ve only ever been allowed to see once. “There’s nothing to be jealous of, no people who would ever steal us away.”

You roll your eyes, and as soon as you do, Valerius has stepped up beside you, as though waiting for the moment you would. Anticipating it. He leans against the wall to your left, and with the pillar to your right and Lucio in front of you, you realise that you are trapped—and by the look in each of their eyes, very intentionally so.

Valerius’ eyebrow quirks, and you realise he’s waiting for something, for you.

“Well?” Lucio asks. He reaches forward to toy with a piece of your hair, curling it the same way he had been curling that _wenches _hair back in the hall, watching the movement of his fingers as he waits. You realise that Valerius is waiting for an answer, that he had asked a question.

“No?” You answer, more of a question to your voice than you’d hoped. Lucio almost seems to pout.

“No?” He repeats.

You backtrack. “…yes?”

Both of them laugh, and it’s so different to how they were laughing in company not even three minutes previous; Lucio’s is a little more high-pitched, he’s not even trying to cover it, and Valerius’ comes with a smile that reaches his eyes. Their true laughs. You feel your growling beast settle a little in your chest. 

“Oh pet,” Lucio nuzzles into your neck, takes your hips and holds you there while he kisses you softly. You shiver against him, suddenly losing quite a lot of your steam. 

“Do you really believe that we would leave you to rot in favour of someone else that had caught our eye?” Valerius says.

You can’t help it, it slips out, “Isn’t that what you did with Nadia?”

Lucio’s grip on your hips tightens, “We had an arrangement with Noddy, but she knew it would never last. Not the 3 of us together. But you and us…” He sighs softly into your neck, grazes his teeth along your pulse. “We could be forever. Eternal, if the world should ever let us.”

You still at his words, your eyes flickering to Valerius to watch his own reaction. He gives you nothing with his eyes, but instead reaches forward to brush his thumb along your bottom lip.

“Do you need us to prove it?” He asks. “Do you want us to show you how much we care? Do we need to dote on you, praise you, for you to truly believe it?”

You nod. Without thought, without hesitation, without apology, you jerk your head and breathe out a _please_. 

Their response is just as immediate. Lucio steps away and Valerius steps in, scooping you up to carry you to the center of the room, where an ornate chaise lounge inlaid with gold awaits. He deposits you on it before settling behind you, allowing you to lean back against his chest between his legs. Lucio has swept off his jacket and laid it across the back of a nearby chair, and as he places a hand on each of your knees, his grin is that of the devil incarnate.

“You are perfect for us, little one,” Valerius murmurs to you, as Lucio parts your thighs and settles between them. “Perfect in every way. From the way you respond to every touch, to your wide eyes as you watch me fuck Lucio into submission like it’s the most glorious thing you have ever seen in your years of existence—even the way you seem to plot the murder of every person who comes within touching distance of either of us is so wonderful to watch.”

You bite your own tongue to stop yourself from biting out that _they _were the ones shamelessly flirting, that it wasn’t _you_ overreacting, but it is exactly what they want—it is all exactly what they had planned for you to do, if their speed and matching smirks are anything to go by. 

And so instead, you watch as Lucio presses a kiss to the inside of each thigh, and as the pointed fingers of his gloved hand press tiny pinpricks of pain into your skin. You hiss, and watch his shoulders roll in pleasure at the sound as he continues to kiss and lick and bite up the inside of your thighs until each is parted as far as you will allow, and he is able to run a finger down you—completely bare, no undergarments since the moment you had arrived at the palace that evening. 

Lucio chuckles at this. “You’re too good to us,” he murmurs against you, before gently parting your folds and inhaling.

He groans. Presses his lips to your clit. You whimper, you shake, and it hardly seems fair that neither of them seem as affected as you.

Though you suppose that neither of them have the disadvantage of being more than a little tipsy and having watched you flirt shamelessly while they filled with green, bubbling rage that had, somehow, managed to turn them into a shaking mess who just wanted to be loved, praised, shown that they were the _only _one who mattered.

“Talk to me, little one,” Valerius croons into your ear. “What will make you feel better and less of a petulant, jealous little mess?”

You are only vaguely aware that he has undressed your top half, leaving your clothes bunched around your waist. His hands are cupping and rolling your breasts while his lips suckle spot after spot onto your bare shoulder and neck.

“Tell me what you feel,” you gasp out. Both hands are in Lucio’s hair, gripping tighter and tighter the louder Lucio’s lapping tongue and moans become as he eats you out. “Both of you, what you _really_ feel. Don’t lie.”

Valerius makes a thoughtful noise, almost as though he weren’t expecting such an answer. But, as Lucio slips a second finger into you and begins to gently stretch and coax you apart, Valerius does not try to step around it, and it’s the Count himself who seems the most greedy to give you his words and affections in between his crooking fingers and sweeping tongue.

“You, my wondrous magician, my sun and stars, my sweetest poison,” Lucio coos to you, his voice low in his chest. “Are everything I could have hoped for myself, for _us_.”

Your cheeks heat at his words, despite them being nothing but what you asked for, no lewdness or filth to them. He looks up at you as he slips a third finger into your aching pussy, your swollen clit caught between his lips, and you whine out his name in a pitch almost too high to hear.

You hear him curse under his breath, followed by the faint noise of his zipper before he takes himself in his hand with a groan. When he continues, his voice is strained. 

“You give me all of my favourite sounds and sighs, and the fire I was watching burn inside of you tonight only made me want you so much more. To know that you want _me, _that I am important enough to you to make you want to tear heads and claw faces—that is by far my greatest achievement.”

Your chest is swelling, almost fit to burst, at his words. You feel a little of that snarling, green beast retreat back into the nastiest recesses of your mind, replaced by something that is greedy for every ounce of pleasure Lucio can give you, and then more.

After spending a few moments watching your face move through the motions, Lucio pulls back, and you whine in protest when he steps away to dig into his coat pocket. Valerius pulls you against his chest when you try to follow and keeps you there, his hand smoothing down your stomach to begin teasing you with his long fingers as you both wait for Lucio to return.

When he does, he’s holding something long and jet black in his palm. You flush at the sight of it, and he quirks an eyebrow at the response, glancing the vibrator over as he drops back into his place between your thighs.

“_This_, of all things, makes you blush?” He asks.

You try to roll your eyes again, but Valerius catches you again, your jaw caught in his hand as you try to turn your head away. 

“Do you need to hear more?” Valerius asks you. His gaze drops down to your lip, caught between your teeth as you try to hide your growing smile.

“Maybe.”

Valerius grins—that same one that reaches his eyes and makes your brain blissfully numb for the first few moments it enters your vision—and takes your lips with his own. He kisses like he fucks, with slow, deep motions that have you quaking in his arms. He keeps you there long after he’s had his fill, tasting and tasting and tasting, not even letting you pull away to gasp when you hear the faint buzzing of the vibrator, or when you feel it pressing against your entrance.

“I suppose it is my turn to make you sigh,” Valerius murmurs against your lips, as Lucio begins to work the vibrator into you with short, shallow thrusts. It’s no bigger than either of them, but at the angle he has you and with the tenseness in your body, you feel almost too tight to take it. 

Valerius’ fingers find your clit once more, drawing slow, lazy circles over it to help you along. Lucio shifts your hips forward just slightly, and together they seem to work you down enough to ease the vibrator inside of you completely, to the point where you can feel its buzzing in every inch of your pussy, causing you to twitch around it and whimper.

Valerius takes your lips again, then kisses along your jaw as Lucio begins to fuck you with long, deep thrusts. Valerius captures your earlobe between his teeth, biting down gently and rolling it there before he continues.

“I wish so very much I hadn’t used our first kiss to lure you,” he tells you. The admission makes you still, the soft way he says it—the slight catch in his throat, barely detectable—making you reach back and bury your fingers in his hair. He closes his eyes and moans, almost purrs, before continuing.

“If I could do it again, I would ask you with my words, and save our kiss for when you were sobbing for it, writhing above me and begging to be loved, just so I could taste your tears on your lips while I did it.”

You nod, though you don’t really know what for at this point. You can feel them in every inch of you, their affections and adoration and unspoken love.

Valerius, with his sighs against your sweat-dampened neck.

Lucio, grinning into the skin of your inner thigh, brushing his canines against it to make you shiver.

It’s almost too much for your human heart to bare, magic or not there seems to be no way for you to hold exactly what you had asked for inside of you, exactly what they had given without question or contest. 

“Stop!” You whine as you writhe against Lucio’s ministrations, his hand as he furiously rubs at your aching clit, the vibrator as he fucks you with faster and faster strokes. “Please—_please _stop, I need you to fuck me!”

“And why is that?” Valerius asks, seemingly unable to keep that dominant edge from his voice at the mention of you wrapped around his cock.

“I—” You push Lucio’s hands away, and he surprises you by conceding. You blink at him, then glance down to his unbuttoned pants. 

His cock is stiff in his hand as he pulls it with long, even movements. He is eyeing you like a fucking meal, like he could consume every inch of flesh that belongs to you and not ever be sorry for your screams of pleasure while he does it. 

“I need you to come inside of me!” You gasp out. “Pump your seed inside of me as I scream, mark every inch inside of me so I’ll always know I’m yours—I want to feel it dripping from my pussy, want you to stand back and watch until it’s all out. Give me your attention, your love, I want _everything_!”

In a movement you almost don’t catch, Lucio reaches down and yanks you forward by your ankles. Your back goes flat along the lounge, thighs spread wide for him at the edge as he lines his cock up with your aching pussy and thrusts inside.

You scream out as he fucks you, his fingertips bruising your hips as he groans and curses under his breath like a man deranged. You arch your back as he hits every sensitive part inside of you, stretches you out, makes you imperfect for anyone else but him.

“AH! FUCK, _Lucio—_” You cry out as his thrusts become shallow, uneven, desperate. He hunches forward, arms caging you as he nuzzles into your neck. “Come inside me, please, please come inside me I need it so much PLEASE PLEASE!”

He shudders against you and sinks his teeth into your shoulder as he comes, the feel of his hot seed filling your belly, coating your walls, making you delirious as you crash over the edge with him.

“_Fuck_—” He hisses into your shoulder, trying to sooth the mark his teeth left with his tongue, but in a matter of moments he’s just making another and another as he empties inside of you, body shaking from the strain of keeping himself up. “S—so good, oh little one, your pussy feels so good when it’s milking my cock, it’s the most perfecting fucking thing in the world.”

You whimper against him as your orgasm recedes, leaving you weak and a little heady. Lucio pulls out of you, whimpering and whispering into your ear, thanking you for letting him fuck you, for letting him come inside of you.

“Sit up, little one,” Valerius says. He offers out a hand, and he helps you shift over onto your hands and knees, your hips pressing up into the air with your chest to the lounge.

“What a spectacular sight,” he murmurs.

You shift your hips, clenching the walls of your pussy as you feel Lucio’s seed begin to drip from it. It rolls across your swollen labia. Some of it drips out onto the plush fabric of the chaise. A line trails down the back of one of your thighs. You turn your head to whimper into the chaise, and you hear Lucio give his own whine in response.

“Just let her sit there,” Valerius tells him softly. “You can clean her up with that filthy tongue of yours in a moment.” He pauses, then says with an almost malicious grin you can hear weaving its way through his words, “Or perhaps she can let it dry between her thighs while we speak to some more of our guests.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, your chest tightens. You know then, as the two of them watch Lucio’s seed drip from your pussy, that there was never any real danger.

There was no one else who they would take in your place. No other in the city, perhaps in the world, would entertain their desires with such recklessness. No.

Because there was no one else so sublimely fucked up, so exquisitely matched in their flaws, so perfectly suited to the two twisted young gods of Vesuvia, as you.


	3. Part 2.5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On your knees, you use your hands and wicked little mouth to simultaneously work Valerius and Lucio to orgasm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2.5 (?) of Young Gods/The Eternals. This just kind of happened. Again, this links with parts 1 and 2, and will also link to part 3 when it is out, but can be read as a stand alone.

You are kneeling at the foot of the king bed, clothes pooled on the floor around you, the soft candlelight of the room reflecting off the thin sheen of sweat glistening across your heaving chest.

Your nipples are wet from where they were suckled just minutes before, a pair of lips for each one. The enthused movements and utter filth whispered into each of them had made you squirm and keen in delight as your orgasm had crashed down upon you, bedroom door flung open for all in the palace to hear how expertly your two lovers manipulated you into screaming and sobbing, just the way they liked.

And now, with the waves of your orgasm barely faded from your quivering body, you wait with your bottom lip bruising between your teeth, but you are making no efforts to conceal your already growing arousal at the sight before you.

Lucio to the right, Valerius on the left, their soft groans falling onto your greedy ears and fuelling your lust as you tug and squeeze and work their cocks with each of your hands.

And each time they make their pretty little noises—whisper your name, curse to the heavens, release a moan they would never admit was almost high-pitched enough to be a whine—you feel the power inside of you rise, the knowledge that even from your knees you can control every noise and movement they make.

“_More_, pet,” Lucio groans, the faintest trace of a whine to his voice as he arches his hips to get closer to you. “Give me more, let me feel your warmth.”

Shifting your weight, you lean forward to taste the head of Lucio’s cock with a swirl of your tongue and then envelope it in your lips, suckling gently with a soft moan that is almost engulfed by Lucio’s own. His knees shake, and the wood clutched between his metallic fingers starts to crack and splinter from the strain of his hold.

He had promised he wouldn’t take, only receive, they _both_ had said they would let you take your power and their pleasure however you wished and for as long as you willed it to be for. This was your reward, and also their punishment, their way to prove to you that they _could_ control themselves, that they were able to relinquish their control to you and only you, if only for a few moments.

Releasing Lucio’s cock with a soft _pop_, your teeth chinking lightly against the metal balls pierced into the underside, you turn to Valerius. His cock waits for you, twitching underneath the heat of your palm, glorious and long and clean, the head exposed and pearling with precome waiting to be collected by your greedy little tongue.

Your lashes flutter as you lean forward, pausing with your tongue hovering over the bead to glance up at Valerius. His eyes are dark, wild, _ravenous_, watching you on your knees below him, mouth open to receive him, to swallow him, to choke on him if you so wish.

“Go on, baby,” he breathes. Unlike Lucio, who is thrusting into your hand as you work him toward his orgasm, Valerius waits, unmoving, the epitome of patience, the young god of composure and control. “Bring me to my knees with your tongue, with those delightful little noises you make when you swallow my cock—”

He hisses, groans, as you envelope him with the warmth of your mouth, taking him as deep as you can in one movement. Lucio keens at the sight of it, and a moment later you feel his hand slipping into your hair, gripping it but not pushing as you begin to bob your mouth on the consul’s cock, suckling and moaning greedily at the salty taste of him.

“I need to come,” Lucio groans, his body bowing against your hand. “Pet, I’m going to—”

You can feel him twitching in your palm, throbbing from the need to release, and you quickly pull your mouth from Valerius to return it to Lucio, suckling the head of his cock just the way he likes, batting your eyelashes as you look up to his heated gaze.

You are only there for a few moments before one of them pulls you off with a hard yank, your hair twisted in their fist. Your eyes sting from the movement, and you are gasping for air, chest heaving as Valerius looks down at you, his jaw tight from his own impending release.

“On the bed, pet.”

You obey without question, scrambling to climb onto the bed and lay yourself back. Without instruction, you fold your arms above your head and part your thighs, exposing as much of your body to them as possible as they step up to you, cocks in hand, stroking furiously to bring themselves to their release.

Lucio is the first to go, always, white-hot lashes of his come spurting out over your thighs and between your legs. Valerius joins him a second later, his seed mixing with Lucio’s on your abdomen, your chest, and you keen and moan and arch your back into their invisible touch, begging greedily for every drop.

Your body is quivering as the last drops of them lash out against your heated flesh, and you’re aware of just how much you need to come again—how stupid it was for you not to when you were fucking them with your mouth, or even when they had pushed you up onto the bed to mark and claim as their own—but the moment has passed. They are back in control now, and you know you won’t be allowed to come a second time unless they permit it.

“You look so beautiful like this, baby,” Lucio purrs. His gaze drags over you, unabashed and so intimately that you can feel it raking like his metallic claws, right over your very soul.

Valerius murmurs his agreement, pushing his hair—all of its dishevelled pieces, stuck to his parted lips and sweaty forehead—back from his face as he devours you with his own gaze.

“Will you wear this look to dinner for us?” He asks, in a way that is almost not a question at all.

You grin, a wicked and delightful twist of your lips, and push yourself up on one shaking hand. With the other, you lock eyes with Valerius and swipe the tip of your finger through the mess of come on your stomach, and offer a finger out.

Instantly, Lucio drops to his knees and envelopes your offering with his warm tongue, lapping and suckling at the come there with moans of delight. The sounds make you shiver in their glory, and smirking, you never breaking your gaze from Valerius as you give him your answer.

“Only if you promise to clean me up with your tongues afterwards.”


End file.
